Refugee
by iangate
Summary: An alien escapee from district 9 gets harbored by a young sympathizer and his not-so-sympathetic father.
1. Chapter 1

Refugee

A District 9 Fanfiction

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Chapter 1: The Escape

I remember clearly the moment I decided to leave District 9. It happened all at once; no subtle beginning, no gradually growing sense of want. It was instantaneous, and it was excruciating.

It happened when I was on my way home on a night similar to many others I'd survived. I was alone; the rest of my group had already gone into their respective homes; so I was, in essence, a walking target. I moved at a steady pace; not too fast, not too slow. If I moved too quickly, I would draw unnecessary attention to myself, and if I walked too slowly, I'd spend unnecessary time outside, running up the risk of being spotted by an MNU officer. I was so used to the routine by now that the speed came almost instinctively. Still, my pace counted for a very small fraction of my safety. I'd been shot at in the past when there was much more going for me than speed, so I remained fearful. I rounded a corner, getting ready for the final stretch, when I saw him.

He lay there, his body completely intact apart from a tiny bullet hole in the head. He did not move. I didn't have to come close and check. I immediately knew he was dead. I remembered hearing a gunshot earlier when I was with the others. This must have been the result. I began to shake. The sight; no; the very idea of what had happened triggered every single negative emotion in me that could possibly be felt, as strongly as they could possibly be felt. I was sad that it had to end for him this way, I was afraid this might happen to me, I was angry at the humans for murdering him and countless others, etcetera. I knew these feelings had been inside me for very a long time now, just suppressed, but I could control them no longer. I'd had enough of this place.

Looking back, I'm a bit puzzled that it was that particular moment that caused me to leave. I'd experienced much worse in the past. I'd witnessed one outlander get his antennae ripped from his head right in front of me. I'd seen one on the ground, his face unrecognizable from repeated bludgeoning. I'd even seen one of my own _friends_ dead, his torso cut open and robbed of its organs. Through all of these I'd never so much as blinked, somehow. It mystifies me that a simple gunshot to the head could affect me so dramatically. I _guess_ it was because my emotions had build up to the point where even the slightest stimuli would push me past the breaking point, and this was by no means slight, even compared to the much worse things I'd witnessed.

Anyway, the desire was uncontrollable. I _had_ to get out. I knew the risk, I knew I could die in the process, but even dying seemed better than staying where I was. Something would end tonight. Whether it be my life or my confinement here, I didn't care; well… I think I was probably leaning toward the latter, but that's not important.

Had I been thinking rationally, I would have returned home to stock up on supplies before I left. But I _wasn't_ thinking rationally. The only thing that concerned me at the moment was getting out as quickly as possible. And that's just what I did. I ran at full speed towards the nearest edge (which was, fortunately, relatively close.) It didn't take long to reach it, and when I got there, I leaped over the razor-wire-topped fence. I immediately heard gunfire. They were shooting at me! Not a surprise at all…

I don't remember much of what followed. The only clear thing was that I came out of it covered in blood that was not my own. I felt no remorse for what I'd done. They were, after all, human.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

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South Africa. My birthplace. I always knew I'd return there at some point in my life, but never this early. Not so long as my mother had a say. Yet somehow, here I sat, looking out the window at the clouds below. A voice crackled over the intercom: "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We have begun our initial decent into OR Tambo International Airport. The fasten seatbelt signs have been turned on."

I wish I could say I was excited to return, but that would be an outright lie. I was, to be honest, filled with absolute dread. I felt this way not because of this country's tense racial history; Not because of the high crime rate; and _definitely_ not because of the aliens. What had me so scared was my father. No, he wasn't abusive or neglecting. He had been a wonderful father to me the six years we spent together. The issue was not with what kind of a dad he was; it was with what kind of a person; for the kind of person he _was_ was a hateful, xenophobic monster; a fact Mom never let me forget.

So why the hell was I coming? I thought back to the day I decided to go. We'd received a phone call from him, begging that Mom let him see me. For some reason, she didn't hang up immediately like she usually did. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn't made any attempt to contact us in years, or maybe she was just in a good mood. Either way, she eventually decided he could only see me if I agreed, figuring I would probably deny him. So why did I say yes?! Because I didn't want to be too merciless? I guess that was probably it. Of course, I regretted my choice almost immediately after making it. But for some reason, I stuck to my decision, even with Mom's constant attempts to change my mind. At this point, I was beginning to wish I'd listened to her.

I felt a bump, followed by a very loud rumble. Looking out the window, I saw we'd just landed. Another hour or two and I'd be with him.

*****

The cab ride was mostly uneventful, but through it, I continued to get more and more surprised the closer we got to the mothership. I didn't think he would live _this_ close to the district. Almost no one lived close if they could help it, and definitely not my father. Had he had a change of heart? No. That couldn't be. Even good people avoided this area because of the rampant gang activity. Maybe he _didn't_ have a choice. That would explain his sudden desperate plea for a visit, and the fact that he didn't just visit us in America. I just hoped I wouldn't have to stay in a run-down shack.

When we arrived, I found this wasn't the case. The house was two stories, and even though the paint was peeling on the outside, it looked livable. After paying the driver his fare, I approached the house with my luggage and knocked on the door. Only a few seconds passed before a tall, bearded man opened it, saw me, and immediately hugged me tightly. Needless to say, it wasn't fun. "Lesedi," he whispered, "Lesedi, I missed you so much. I'm so sorry."

"Lester…" I said defiantly, "My name's Lester now."

"What?"

"We changed it after we moved."

He let go of me and sighed, "Look… I really… I really don't want to get started on the wrong foot. I… I'm sorry I wasn't able to pick you up at the airport. I need to be very conservative with gasoline; I'm not… doing very well… I hope you don't take that the wrong way…"

"Don't worry. I won't." I said emotionlessly.

"Well, umm… How have you been doing?"

"Fine." I stated simply.

"Umm… Here. Come inside. I fixed dinner." He tried to usher me in. I stayed put.

"I'm not hungry." I said.

"… Look, whatever your mother's been telling you about me, I assure you it's not true."

"So… You don't hate them?" I turned my head slightly towards the ship.

"Hate what? You mean…" he breathed a slight gasp, "those _things_?"

"They're sentient beings…" I said quietly, my voice shaking from trying to contain the rage.

"… L-L-Listen! You don't- They- She's using that to turn you against me! Please- I-"

"So now you're saying you _don't_ hate them?"

"I didn't… You don't understand. They don't-"

"I'm not listening to this anymore. Where's my room?"

"Where's your...? It's… It's upstairs. I sleep downstairs. But you need to-"

I immediately pushed past him and climbed the stairs. It was difficult with nobody to help me with the luggage, but I managed. I turned a couple corners and entered what would be my bedroom for the next month. It was actually set up pretty nicely. Not that I cared, though. I shut the door behind me and let myself fall backwards into the bed. This _would not_ be a pleasant trip. I'd only just arrived and already I was longing for home. I closed my eyes, hoping to shut out the world, if only temporarily.

That didn't go very far, as I almost immediately heard banging at the door. "Lesed… Lester! Open the door!"

"It doesn't even have a lock!" Jeez. This guy was pathetic.

The door immediately swung open, and in he stepped. "I'm not taking this anymore! I've worked _painstakingly_ so you would feel welcome here! And this is what I get in return?!... I don't care what your mother's been telling you. I will _not_ be treated like dirt!"

"… You don't seem to have a problem treating _them_ like-"

"Alright, enough! Look, I know we don't exactly see… eye to eye… But we're going to have to get along, at least for this month… so let's make a deal."

"… Mmhmm?"

"I don't try to convince you of my views, and you don't try to convince me of yours. We don't have to be at each other's throats for the whole visit."

I had to think about this for a moment, because, to be honest, I _wanted _to tell him how I truly felt. I _wanted_ him to know that he was supporting genocide. I _wanted_ to remind him of this every single day. But in the end, I couldn't. I obviously wouldn't be able to convince him. Mom hadn't been able to, and she was a much better debater than I. The only thing I could accomplish was make him as miserable as possible, yet even that felt wrong. Seeing the state he was in financially, it would be the equivalent of kicking him while he was down. Still, it was tempting, but eventually I had to concede: "… Alright…" It was with that word that all verbal animosity stopped. At least for the moment.

*****

"Hey Dad? What's in the attic?" I yelled, looking up at a trap door in the ceiling with a cord hanging down.

"Just boxes! Why?" he yelled from downstairs.

"Can I go up there?" there was really nothing else to do apart from surf the web on my laptop, something which I was taking a break from at the moment.

"… Yeah, sure!"

I quickly pulled the cord down and ascended the step ladder, only to find, just as Dad had told me, boxes. It wasn't terribly exciting, but it still felt good to explore a new place. The house had no back yard, and Dad wouldn't let me out front. Now, I wasn't exactly fond of him, but I certainly wasn't stupid enough to disobey; I was kept up the night before by the sound of distant gunfire. Apparently, this was a regular occurrence here.

"Les," my dad yelled, "I'm going off to work at the market. I'll be back at 11 PM. Make sure all the curtains stay closed and the door stays locked." I simply said, "Okay," and waited for the sound of the front door closing.

I opened one of the boxes. Inside was a pile of encyclopedias. Ugh. I went to another box, but decided against opening it. I didn't feel like looking through storage. I sat down and sighed. Why did I ever choose this? There was really nothing positive about my visit… Except maybe…

Yes, there _was_ the close proximity to district 9. That was one thing that excited me. I thought about, maybe, one of the nights I spent here, sneaking out while Dad was at work and going as close as the guards would allow, then seeing an alien through the fence and sending some kind of non-verbal signal that I was on his side. Then, maybe… No, that was a ridiculous and completely unrealistic thought. I probably would end up being shot or worse. I put it out of my head.

Well, this was my second day. 29 more to go. How thrilling.

*****

3 days passed, and apart from a brief visit to a park, nothing happened. I spent most of my time glued to the computer. The internet was, after all, the only escape, but even that was three times slower than it was at home.

And today, I'd grown tired of the internet for the moment. I decided to go downstairs and watch TV. Not that I had any idea what to watch. I looked the clock on the way down: 9:03. Good. Another two hours before dad got home from work. I sat on the couch, picked up the remote, flipped on the TV, and relaxed. There was an action movie on with a car chase. Cool, I could get into this. I watched for several seconds, when suddenly, it stopped, and was replaced by the MNU logo. "Oh, god…" I whispered, as they proceeded to deliver a message: "We interrupt this program for an important announcement. A non-Humans has been sighted in your area. Please-" I immediately shut off the TV.

In _my_ area?! If that was true, there could have been an escapee around that needed my help. I knew the odds of one coming by this house were astronomically low, but out of pure impulse, I raced up the stairs, flung open my luggage, and dug until I came across my MNU Spreads Lies shirt; the one with the logo of a human hand holding an alien hand. I put it on and ran back downstairs, opened the curtains of the front window slightly, and watched. I stayed there for about five minutes without seeing anything. My patience was just about to wear out when it happened.

He was limping when I spotted him. He seemed injured. How much, I did not know. But he was there. Right across the street. I never expected to really see one, even as I stood glued to the window, but there he was; an alien.


End file.
